


I See Fire

by SereneCalamity



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments (Movies), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-02-20 06:16:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13140801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SereneCalamity/pseuds/SereneCalamity
Summary: In the end, she knew that it was going to come down to a choice. Him or her family.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So it was requested from agentfandoms74 that I write a Scallison AU for Clace, and this is what happened. Title comes from the Ed Sheeran song.  
> Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or the title.

It was always going to end this way.

Maybe not literally in fire, but it was always going to burn down around them.

Clarissa Morgenstern breathed heavily as she looked over her shoulder. The fire was spreading faster, eating up the dry leaves of the forest and wrapping itself around the trees, destroying everything that it touched. She heard a howl of pain and her stomach clenched as she pushed off the tree that she had collapsed against, forcing her legs onwards.

She was meant to be at the Morgenstern manor. She was meant to be safe—or more accurately, _locked up_ —within the walls of the family fort, and that was definitely where her family thought she was. When her father, mother and the rest of the Circle members had left the house, they had ordered her brother to stay behind at the house and keep an eye on her, make sure she didn't use her phone or computer, and definitely make sure she didn't leave.

Clary and her brother, Jonathan Morgenstern, had been fighting since they were both old enough to walk, and even though he was bigger and stronger, she was faster and used her smaller frame to her advantage. She also had a feeling that Jonathan was going a little easier on her because a part of him didn't _want_ to stop her. He understood loving someone that the family didn't approve of, although not _quite_ to the extent that they disapproved of Clary's boyfriend.

They never called together the Circle to kill bitchy Jeanette Lindor when Jonathan had been dating her.

Clary heard another howl, this one sounded closer, and Clary adjusted her direction slightly. The fire was picking up it's speed, and the smoke was starting to rise. It wasn't going to be long before there were innocents who were going to be at risk, and the fire brigade was going to be called to the scene.

She couldn't believe that her father and his team had made the decision to attack the Herondale pack so openly. The Circle was known for being efficient but also subtle, operating beneath the radar. They had killed many werewolves and vampires and magic users, but they were good at disguising the reasons why the kill had happened, so that mundanes didn't start making connections.

Although, maybe the fire would be a good way to cover up what they were doing.

If they killed the pack carefully—not using their guns—then they could use the fire to cover up the killings, it would look as though the fire was started and the pack had gotten trapped. Clary had no idea how many of Jace Herondale's pack were in the woods, all she could do was hope that Max Lightwood wasn't there—he was the baby of the pack, only seven years old.

Tears stung at Clary's eyes that had nothing to do with the smoke that was steadily filling the air.

This was _her_ fault.

Her family had been hunters for generations.

They lived and died by the code that they killed anything supernatural—they protected the mundane world by eliminating the threat, swiftly and effectively. Until she was fifteen, Clary never questioned that code, because it had been built into her DNA, it was all that she had ever known. Her parents and her grandparents and her extended family and the Circle members that she considered family had told her since she was a little girl—before she could even read or fully understand—that werewolves were evil.

Werewolves killed.

Werewolves showed no mercy.

Werewolves had a never ending thirst and craving for the blood of innocents.

Werewolves were senseless murderers who would run rampant if ever given the chance, destroying everything and _everyone_ who got in their path, and they would enjoy it.

When she was barely old enough to remember, a werewolf had broken into their home. The screams of her favourite aunt, Lydia Branwell, had woken her up. Clary had started crying, and she remembered her brother coming in and picking her up out of the bed that she was sleeping in. The screams had continued, and then there were shouts and cries joining in, along with this awful, low growling noise. Jonathan had only been eight at the time, and he had been rushing down the long hall, to the safe room that they had been taught to retreat to if their home was ever invaded. They had almost made it when the werewolf came charging.

Clary remembered it's red eyes, the way that it was staring at the two of them as though it wanted to eat them alive. It was an actual wolf, a full transformed wolf, unlike most werewolves, who maintained most of their human features. She was crying so much she felt like she could barely breathe, and Jonathan was holding her tightly against his skinny chest.

Three shots had rung out and Clary had seen the wolf fall down, bloody and limp in front of her, only inches away from her and her brother. He hadn't been dead, though. No—that had come when her father and his best friend, Hodge Starkweather, had descended on him, knives in their hands.

The fur had melted away, and a naked body lay there, dead and twisted, and that had haunted Clary's dreams for years.

It wasn't until she was fifteen that her brother had told her about the wolf that had killed her Aunt Lydia. He was one of the only werewolves in the world who had the ability to fully shape shift into a wolf. He had gone into hiding when he had found out that the Circle were hunting him. To draw him out, her parents and the Circle had murdered his whole family—his pack—including the children and the family members who were _human_ , who were mundanes—the very people that they were meant to protect.

No wonder he had attacked them at home.

That was when her hatred had first started to soften.

That was when she had begun to see the hypocrisy of their ways.

It was another year when she had met Jace. She hadn't known he was a wolf at the time, but when she had found out, she had already fallen for him, and him being a werewolf hadn't changed a thing.

They had moved to the city of Idris when she was young, not long after the werewolf that had killed her Aunt Lydia. Later on, she lamented that it would hve been to protect themselves, but it was also because the township of Alicante, which was home to the Herondale pack.

She trained with her father, her brother, her mother, the rest of the Circle. She was fast and strong and hard and she still managed to hold herself with an air of grace and a sweet smile. She had a normal life at school, no one knew what or who her family were. Jonathan went to school as well, and he was popular, on the football team, dating a handful of pretty girls—including bitchy Jeanette, who was a cheerleader. She was doing everything her parents expected her to, being the perfect daughter...

But then she had asked her brother about the werewolf who had attacked them in their home when they were young.

And then she had discovered the cell under their manor where her family were torturing werewolves, sometimes for information, but other times it seemed like it was just because they derived genuine pleasure from it.

Clary had met Jace at a gym that she had started going to. It was almost a half hour drive from the city, and she had chosen to go there as soon as she had gotten her licence and her own car. She had known how to drive since she was nine, another thing that her parents had taught her in case of an emergency, but they still refused to get her a car until she could drive legally. She had joined that gym so that she could go to classes that weren't taught by her family, and to escape from them for a couple of hours a week.

Jace had been doing something similar, although it wasn't his _family_ that he needed a breather from.

It was his _pack_.

It had all been innocent at first, they had been paired up in one of the defense classes because they were both so advanced, surpassing the instructors easily. They had struck up a bit of a friendly rivalry, which had turned into something so much more when he had almost broken her her, dislocating her shoulder and twisting her elbow back. Jace had expected her to tap out, to demand that they take a break.

But she had simply shoved her shoulder back into place—something she had done countless times before—and punched him in the nose, before continuing their fight. There had been a spark in his eyes as she had sprung back into action, and they had continued their fight in the bathrooms after everyone else had left the gym, Jace easily lifting her up and holding her against the tiled walls as they had kissed with the water streaming down their faces.

It had just gotten more intense from there, and soon it had been three years since they had started dating. Given both of them had such intense family lives, sometimes it was hard to see one another, but they made it work. The reason why it took so long for them to find out who the other was—what secrets they were hiding—was because they had both had such big secrets of their own that they didn't want to pry too much into one anothers lives.

Clary had realized that Jace was a werewolf just a minute before he had realized she was a hunter—or at least, that she came from a family of hunters. They had been in Idris, in a part of the city that Clary had been certain her parents or family would go to. Apparently she had been wrong, because she had seen her uncle and one of his friends, and it was a moment later that Jace had frozen and sniffed the air. She had been confused at first, but then he had murmured 'wolfsbane' under his breath. Maybe someone who didn't know what that was would just brush it off, but Clary's eyes had gone wide, and she had stared at him.

Things had been awkward for a bit, and neither of them had known if the other was going to attack and tell their family about the other, or if it was going to be something that just made them stronger.

Apparently it was the latter.

And that was good, because Clary was in love with Jace.

And he was in love with her.

"Fuck!" Clary cried out as her foot got caught on the sprawling roots of a tree and almost sent her stumbling. She regained her footing and paused to take in a few deep breaths. Then she heard a gunshot and Clary felt her heart thudding in her chest as she looked in the direction that the gunshot had come from. It wouldn't be heard from town, not over the sirens that she could already hear approaching and the crackling and sparking that was coming from the fire that was lit up in the forest behind her.

She changed her direction slightly, the ground underneath her beginning to change, turning from leaves and dirt to sharper rocks and sand. She knew that she was approaching the trench at the edge of the forest.

That worried her.

People had died at the trench before.

Generally it had been teenagers who were being stupid and drinking in the forest and got too close to the edge. There had been a couple of suicides as well, people throwing themselves off the rocky edges into the jagged rocks below.

If anyone fell off—or was _pushed_ off—the edge of the trench and into the rocks below, the mundane firefighters could easily assume that they were running away from the fire and had just gotten lost, ended up running off the trench. If any of the werewolves did just fall down the trench, they would definitely be hurt, but they would be able to recover. But if her family managed to get their hands on them _before_ they fell down the trench...

Clary swallowed hard and then she heard another gunshot, and then another howl. She stopped her running, to reach down and pull out her own gun from where it was strapped to her ankle, flicking off the safety and gripping it tightly.

She had used it before, and she had always known that she would use it again.

But she hadn't known that she may have to use it again on her own family.

The ground underneath her feet was completely rock now, and she had to be a bit more careful as she ran across the uneven ground, not wanting to do something stupid like twist her ankle. Clary could see the treeline ending not too far ahead, and she chanced a look back over her shoulder, and she felt the panic rising in her chest as she saw the fire rising even higher.

The red and orange reflected back in her green eyes, the fire not sparing one thought for the wildlife and forestry that it was eating up with crackles and snaps. It was picking up it's pace, and Clary could feel sweat prickling at her hairline, and her heart was beating faster in her chest. It wasn't just the fact that she had been running for almost half an hour, it was the fire that was catching up to her.

She had to reach Jace.

She had to reach his pack.

It was _her_ fault that her family was going after them, and any of them were hurt—if any of them were _killed_ —then she would never be able to forgive herself.

Clary reached the treeline, coughing a few times as she felt the smoke beginning to surround her and fill her lungs. She still clenched the gun in her hand as she looked around, the air beginning to go hazy, and she tried to figure out where her family and the Circle was, and where the pack was. She knew that she was closer, because she could hear shouts, and she could hear growls and snarls, and she looked to her right.

Stephen Herondale was the first one that she saw.

His eyes were glowing Alpha red, and there was something on his back.

 _Max_.

Clary thought for a pained moment that maybe he had been hurt, but then she saw his panicked eyes look over Stephens shoulder, and she realized that he was just carrying the pup so that he didn't get left behind.

Stephen saw her, and he looked furious, and he was running straight at her, and for a moment, Clary had flashbacks to that night when she was a toddler, and that werewolf had broken into their home, and was coming after her Aunt Lydia.

And in all honesty, she wouldn't blame him.

When Jace had finally introduced her to his family and they had come clean to his father about who she was, Stephen had roared so loud that the windows in the room that they were in had shattered. He had only introduced her after they knew who— _what_ —each other were, and Jace had said that his pack knew that he had been seeing someone, and it was only a matter of time before one of them saw them together, and they might recognize her. It was better for Jace to introduce her directly, and they could only hope for the best.

Stephen at first had forbidden for them to had anything to do with each other.

Jace's eyes had changed colour at that point and Clary had panicked, and obviously the scent of her fear had been strong enough to spread throughout the house. It wasn't as though the few pack members in the house _didn't_ know something was going on, given how loud Stephen had roared, but it wasn't until Clary started breathing quickly, all the training she had been given through her life feeling useless, that a beautiful woman had come into the room. Jace's mother. She had been the one that had calmed Stephen down, while Jace had stood in front of Clary, protecting her.

Things had been rocky at first, but they had come to a sort of mutual understanding as time went by. Stephen had never been her biggest fan though, and Clary could understand that. Not only was she an outsider, but she was also a _threat_ —a hunter, someone who had been trained from the time they could walk to fight and kill his kind.

He was just protecting his pack.

And right now—running from a pack of hunters, Clary's _family_ , the very people that he had been afraid she would lead to them—she wouldn't blame him.

"This way!" Stephen growled out as he passed by her, and she blinked at him in surprise as she turned to watch him run. He was heading in the right of the direction that she had been going, which was directly toward the trench. Clary's eyes widened and she took in a deep breath to shout after Stephen, to warn him, but she just ended up coughing, the smoke filling her lungs. Suddenly there were two more figures coming out of the smoke, running toward her. As they came out of the smoke, Clary saw Celine Herondale, Jace's mother, and Isabelle Lightwood. Neither of them looked particularly surprised to see her, and neither of them slowed down, shooting past her. Then there was the rest of the Lightwoods, and Maia Roberts, and Jordan Kyle, and the rest of the Herondale pack.

Clary was still frozen in the same spot, though.

She hadn't seen Jace.

What if her family had already gotten to him?

There was a howl from behind her, in the direction that the pack had gone, and there were howls in response, from the rest of the pack. And then there was another howl, back in the direction that they had come from, and Clary stared into the smoky forest, ignoring the way the smoke was stinging her eyes. She saw a dark shape beginning to form, and when she saw glowing gold eyes, she felt that panicked, nauseous feeling in her stomach begin to fade.

"Jace!" She cried out, even though her voice sounded a little weak and scratchy from the amount of smoke that she was breathing in.

"Clary!" Jace shouted as he finally came into view and he skidded to a stop next to her. The hair on his face was course and his fangs were pressed against his lips and his beta gold eyes were glowing, and yet she wasn't scared. She had never seen him shifted before, but it was _Jace_ , and she loved him, and the fact that he was running, the fact his _entire pack_ was running was because of her.

"I'm so, _so_ sorry," Clary gasped out, feeling tears pricking at her eyes that had nothing to do with the smoke.

"This isn't your fault," Jace told her, his own voice raspy. "We knew that it was always going to come to this." Clary tried to breathe in and control the tears that were beginning to cloud her vision, but breathing was getting hard. Then she heard shouts—shouts that she recognized—and Jace gripped her hand. "Are you coming with me?" He asked, and she could feel his claws pressing into the back of her hand.

"Yes," Clary didn't even need to think twice about it. She had announced to her whole family that she was in love with a werewolf when her father had confronted them after her Hodge had seen the two of them together. She had knocked out her brother and locked him in a room to escape and warn him. There really wasn't any question as to where her heart was.

"Okay," Jace's smile was wide, but he flinched as a shout came, and it was a lot closer than it had been before. He listened, and the smile disappeared, and his grip on her hand was almost painful. Sweat was gathered along with forehead and his eyes burned an even brighter shae of gold. "They're close," he said. "We need to go." Clary nodded, and they turned, running in the direction that his pack had gone. Clary was fast—but she was fast for a human, she had no chance of keeping up with a werewolf. Jace was running slower so that she could keep up, but even she could hear the shouting of her family and the Circle getting closer, and the heat of fire was burning at their backs.

The ground underneath their feet was completely rocky now, and Clary knew that they were almost at the trench. She wasn't sure what the plan was once they reached it, but she trusted Jace. She was glad that she had changed out of the simple ballet flats that she had been wearing earlier in the day and into a pair of sturdy boots before she had left the house at a sprint. She could hear the shouts getting closer behind them, and crackling of the fire and the snapping of the trees was sounding dangerously close as the fire picked up it's ravage of the forest. Clary almost lost her balance, given she was looking over her shoulder rather than where she was running, and it was only when Jace jerked her arm hard that she realized that she was about to run right off the trench.

"Fuck!" She cried out, skidding to a halt next to Jace, her boots finding grip on the rocks beneath them. A few of the loose pebbles rolled forward, tumbling off the edge of the trench and to the jagged rocks that were at least fifteen metres below. Clary's breath caught in her throat as she looked over the edge and then to the right. The forest was burning, and Jace might be able to make it through, but she definitely wouldn't be able to. She looked over her shoulder again, back to the left of them, and she could make out her fathers voice.

"They went this way!" He was yelling, his voice barely louder than the sounds of the fire. "Come on!" Clary finally looked back at Jace, and he was looking ahead determinedly. Clary followed his gaze, which was looking _across_ the trench, and to the other side.

Where Stephen was standing, his eyes glowing their Alpha red, his fangs dropped and his claws extended. He was looking back at his son, and then he glanced toward Clary, and gave her a small nod. There was a flicker of the same expression that Clary had seen when he had run past her with Max, and she was going to have to decipher that later, because she really didn't have time now.

"You need to go," Clary shouted to Jace, needing to lift her voice. "You _have_ to go! They're almost here!" Panic had been lying underneath her skin from the moment that she had left the house, and she could feel it beginning to block her throat, just like it had when she hadn't seen Jace running with his family. "They'll _kill_ you!"

"You're coming with me!" Jace shouted back at her and her eyes were as wide as saucers.

"I can't make that jump!" She cried. "I'll fall!"

"I won't let you!" Jace told her, and Clary's response was interrupted when there was a loud howl, and they both looked back across the trench to where Stephen was standing. Clary knew that the Alpha was waiting on them, needing to make sure his son—the last member of his pack—was safe.

"I can't, Jace," Clary looked back down at the rocks below and the icy claw of fear squeezed tightly at her stomach. "I can't do that."

"You _can_ ," Jace's voice was determined. "You're the strongest person I know."

"Clary!" Came a shout, and Clary looked back over the trench, and she saw Isabelle Lightwood standing next to Stephen. There was a desperate look on her face as she waved at Clary, indicating that she come.

"Jace, I—" Jace pulled at her arm, jerking her back away from the edge, cutting her off. He put an arm around her waist and without really thinking, Clary jumped slightly, climbing up his body so that her arms were circled around his shoulders and her legs were clamped at his waist. They had been in this position a hundred times before, and Clary knew that Jace could take her weight—she was petite anyway, and then he also had his supernatural strength—but it had never been in a situation where they might actually _die_. Clary took in a shaky breath, and she buried her face in his neck.

She could feel him backing up more, needing to take more a run up than he usually would since he was carrying more than just himself. When he started running, she felt the breath push out of her lungs, and she refused to let her eyes open. She felt him push of the edge of the rock face—she felt the tension in his thighs and the leap he made and the weightlessness as they soared through the air. It felt as though they were suspended in air for countless minutes, as she waited for that sensation of falling to come, but then his feet seemed to find purchase, and they were stumbling forward.

"We need to go," she heard Stephens rough voice. Jace put Clary down, and her legs felt shaky, and then Isabelle was at her side, giving her something that crossed between a one armed hug and a tug toward the trees in front of them.

"Clary!" She heard her father shout, and her eyes moved, back over the large gap between the sides of the trenches, over to where her father was standing. The fire was burning at full force—it was eating up the forest that Clary had run through for so many years, and the smoke was filling the sky. The sirens were closing in, and if her father and the rest of the Circle didn't start running back in the only direction that wasn't yet burning, they weren't going to escape.

The very fire that they had planned to kill Jace and his family threatened to kill them.

"Clary!" He repeated, and there was anger in his voice, but also confusion. She saw more people appearing behind him, including Joceyln Morgenstern, who's eyes went wide with horror as she saw her daughter on the other side of the trench. A few of them drew their guns, with bullets that were made of silver and laced and wolfsbane—and would mortally wound any of the werewolves if it hit them.

They were prepared to kill Jace.

The man she loved.

Clary took in a deep breath as she saw Hodge lift his weapon, and then stood directly in front of Jace and his father. If they fired, they would hit her. She may not have an intolerance to silver and wolfsbane, but a bullet would kill her, just like it would with any other human.

"Get out of the way!" Jocelyn shouted.

"We need to go," Jace whispered to Clary, and she heard a rustle behind them, and she was guessing that Stephen was running, to join the rest of his pack, to ensure that they were safe.

"Clary!" Jocelyn cried out, and Clary felt her heart thudding in her chest, and the tears were back in her eyes. Once she had made this choice, there was no going back.

"Clary," Jace whispered again, his voice more urgent, and she felt him tug at her wrist. The tears started pouring down her face as she saw the rest of the Circle members crowd around her face, all of them with weapons in their hands, all prepared to fire as soon as Stephen gave them the signal.

"Goodbye," Clary's voice was no louder than a rasp, but she could tell from the stricken expression on her mothers face that she had read her daughters lips. She heard Jocelyn scream as Clary turned around, letting Jace take her hand properly, and then ran, following him into the dense forestry, undoubtedly in the direction of the rest of the pack.

She was turning her back on her family.

But she was following the man—the _werewolf_ —she loved.

It was going to be hard, but she was going to be okay.

She ran.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So quite a few people mentioned that they would like a follow up to this oneshot, and danzcoach24reached out about a few months ago again, asking for a second chapter. I hope you guys enjoy :)

Clary took in a deep breath as she looked around.

It was early evening, and there was a cold breeze that was hitting her cheeks, pretty much the only part of her that wasn't covered, given her scarf was pulled up over her chin, covering her lower lip and tucked into the front of the jacket she was wearing, zipped all the way up. There were gloves on her hands and they were shoved into the pockets of the jacket and she had a beanie pulled down over her head, her red hair tamed into a braid that fell down her back.

"Are you okay?" Jace's voice was low as he moved to stand beside her.

It was  _months_  later, yet everything around them was still...Dead.

Clary used to come into this forest as a kid.

Her father would bring her and Jonathan here to train when they were young, pretty much as soon as they had moved to Idris after the death of Aunt Lydia. He wanted somewhere quiet and away from the city, and while the front of the forest was a popular spot for hikers and for teenagers, deeper into the forest, away from the hiking tracks and near where the deep trench was, dividing the forest in two, it wasn't quite as busy. So they had trained there, and Valentine had made them run, and work out, building muscles and stamina.

And her mother would bring her there, when they both needed to get away from the chaos that their house would often become when the other Circle members were there. They would explore the place, starting off on one of the muddy, laid out tracks, and then adventuring off, experts at leaving small clues so that they could find their way back without anyone else knowing they had left them. She would bond with her mother a lot on days like that, talking about their family, their traditions, the Circle, people at school that Clary was friends with, the boys that she would like.

Before she had met Jace, she had come here with a few guys. It was a popular make out spot, and even though she associated this place with family, that didn't mean that  _others_  did. Anyway, they had mainly stuck to the spots that were closer to the front of the forest, by the preserve, or by the creek that ran near the left side of the forest. Those times held special memories for her as well, just like most fond memories that teenagers held with the ones they had experimented with.

Now, the whole place was almost completely burnt down.

It was a couple of months on, and there were still places where the ash was obvious, that the wind and rain hadn't gotten to. Not  _too_  many places, since it was winter, and there had been a lot of heavy rainfalls and the whole forest was so exposed now, so it was only under fallen logs and piles of rocks that the ash was still there.

Some might say that the whole place was ruined.

But as Clary tilted her head the side, surveying the landscape, she actually thought it kind of looked rather pretty.

She knew that this place was filled with pain and loss, there were a lot of memories from the town that were lost when the fire had eaten up almost the whole forest. Obviously, across the trench—the one that she had jumped across with Jace those few months ago, even though it felt as though it had been  _years_ —the forest there was still alive and thriving, but the rocky divide clearly split the forest in half. On the other side were blackened logs and dirt and mush that was clearly ash beaten down by the weather, over the rocks. One side was flourishing, years and years into it's life, and the other side was just beginning, only several months into this world.

"Clary," Jace's voice was quiet again, breaking through her thoughts. She looked up at him, tilting her head backwards to meet his eyes before she realized that he wasn't actually looking at her, he was looking past her, across the fallen trees and the rubble, beyond that and toward the car park area, which was now visible since there weren't any tall trees in the way, although Clary had to squint since she didn't have Jace's perfect vision, and also step to the side to see past the thick trunk of a burnt tree which was just a little taller than herself.

Her brother.

Clary swallowed hard as she saw that he was doing something with his Jeep, probably locking it up. He hadn't realized that they were there yet, still facing his car. Even though the forest had burnt down and  _they_  could see  _him_ , there were still plenty of half trunks around, and both Jace and Clary were dressed in dark colours clothes, so that they blended into the background.

After she had run away with Jace and his pack, Stephen had told her that she had needed to destroy anything that she had brought with her that could be used to track her. Clary could understand that, she'd spent her whole life learning how to track people down, both through physical hard work and also electronically, and she knew how easy it was to find someone if they weren't purposefully covering up their tracks, and doing it well. The only thing that she had taken with her had been the clothes on her back and her phone, given she had broken out of her home and fled, the only thing on her mind to warn Jace and his pack.

She had smashed her phone and thrown the pieces in four separate trash cans through one of the towns they passed through.

Five weeks ago, just after Isabelle's birthday, actually, she had checked one of her old email accounts. It had been one that her and her brother used to communicate on when one of them was off on a training mission with their father and the rest of the Circle. Life had just been so busy and crazy since she had run away with the pack of werewolves, she hadn't really had time to settle and think, and it was only about a week after they had settled into a home that had been in the Herondale family for centuries, in Dumort, and after Isabelle's birthday that she had thought of the email account. She had logged in on the new phone that Celine had brought for her shortly after she had destroyed her own, and her eyes widened as she saw there were three emails waiting.

All from her brother.

Her and Jonathan had always been close, they had to be, as the only children of their family in this supernatural, scary world that they had grown up in.

He had been the one to shield and comfort her after the werewolf attack when she was a child.

He had been the one to make her smile after a horrible day of training where her father made her feel like she wasn't good enough.

He was the one that she had never lied to, never kept things from...Until Jace.

She didn't regret what happened, she knew that she had made the right choice. She loved Jace, and she had been questioning the way her parents and their friends had lived ever since finding out the truth after the werewolf attack when she was younger. She had been in a relationship with him for several years now, and the family that she had found with his pack—now  _her_  pack—that was something that she had been willing to die to protect, and she was proud to be a part of it.

But she missed her brother.

She also missed her mother, and sometimes— _very_  occasionally—her father.

But mainly, she missed her brother.

So when she had seen the emails, her heart had jumped into her throat. There was no way that she could hide the happy scent that surrounded her from the werewolves that she lived with. Even Max commented on it, nuzzling into her shoulder and telling her that she smelt good. Celine had told her that if she wanted to share what it was making her so happy, then she was there to listen, although she was sure that Jace would be happy to be the first one that she talked to.

Clary had told Jace about the emails, and she wasn't sure how she thought he was going to react, or his father and mother, when he spoke with them about.

She really hadn't expected them to tell her to go and see him, but then, she should have. Werewolves put one another above everything else, their pack was everything, and pack was family, and so they  _understood_  wanting to be with family.

The condition was that it was brief.

 _Very_  brief.

And that she take Jace with her. She didn't need a babysitter, and she muttered that under her breath, that was _of course_  heard by the werewolves in the room, and Stephen had come over to her, putting his hand on her shoulder, thumb pressing gently against her neck. He had told her that it wasn't that they didn't trust her, it was that she was part of the pack now, and they needed to know that she was safe.

There wasn't any way Clary could say no to that.

And it wasn't as though she  _hadn't_  planned to take Jace anyway.

Clary took in a deep breath and began walking forward, her footsteps light and barely making a sound, even with the broken branches and crackling foliage on the ground. Jace even quieter, completely silent, and he made sure to give her some space, staying a little further back even though Clary knew that he wanted to be right at her side. But he respected her wishes, and they had been together for long enough now that he knew that she could look after herself.

Jonathan noticed them just a few minutes later.

Jace could smell the nervousness and worry wafting across the land that stretched between them, coming off Clary's brother. But there was also joy as he spotted his sister and began walking quickly toward them. He was very aware that Jace was right behind Clary, and he knew that he was a werewolf, but Jace wasn't smelling any fear coming off the human. It could have been because he was a hunter, and like Clary, they had been brought up to face supernatural creatures and kill them, and there wasn't much room for fear when it came to that.

Clary's stomach was in knots as she slowed down, a few feet away from Jonathan. She knew that Jace had stopped a few metres back, giving her space, and Jonathan's eyes flicked over her shoulder once, at her boyfriend, before looking back at her. He came to a stop and and took in a shaky breath, giving her a smile.

"Clare Bear," he murmured and Clary's eyes filled with tears as she threw herself at her brother, her arms going around his neck and squeezing him tightly. Jonathan's arms went around her waist, picking her up easily and giving her a hug. Jace watched the pair of them together, and he wondered what it was that they had been talking about in their emails to each other. She couldn't send them frequently, they had to be careful to mask the IP address when she sent them just in case they were found by her parents on Jonathan's side, but Jace knew that when she  _did_  send them, they were so long they were practically novels.

"Fuck, I've missed you," Clary whispered as he finally rested her back on her feet.

"I've missed you, too—we  _all_  have," Jonathan replied. "Are you.." he pursed his lips together and his eyes went to Jace again, and it was clear that while there wasn't fear, there was some anger. Which Jace could understand, because pack—or family, for humans—was everything, and if one of his closest family members was lost to him, then he would feel that pain as well, and anger toward the person who caused it.

But at the end of the day, it wasn't  _his_  fault.

It had been Clary's  _choice_.

Today wasn't about that, though.

"Are you coming back?" Jonathan asked quietly, even though they all knew Jace could hear. Clary hesitated, but only for a moment.

"No," she responded gently. "You know I'm not, I already told you that. I just wanted...I wanted to see you, rather than just email you." Jonathan looked as though he didn't understand her decision and had more questions, but he didn't push it any further, probably because he knew that they had limited time. "I can't stay long. I know dad has people hacked into all the security feed around town."

"It's only because he wants to be the first one to know if you come back," Jonathon told her in defense of their father.

"And the first one to know if the my pack comes back," Clary replied and Jace couldn't help the pulse of happiness in his chest. It wasn't the first time she had called the Herondale pack her pack, but every time she said it, Jace couldn't help but think back less than a year ago—less that _six months_  ago—when he hadn't been certain that this was possible.

"Your...Pack?" Jonathan said the word as though it was strange in his mouth.

"Yes," Clary nodded her head firmly. "My pack." Jonathan was quiet for a long time, staring at Clary, thinking over her words and his reply very carefully. Finally, he stepped to the side, around her, and took a few steps until he was right in front of Jace. Clary turned around to watch them, and the concern was etched in her face. Jace stared at Jonathan, an inch or so taller than him, his broad shoulders pushed back and his lips pulled into a thin line. Jonathan swallowed hard, and for the first time, Jace could smell fear coming off him, but then he thrust his hand forward.

"Thank you for looking after my sister," he said to Jace, and Jace knew that it took a lot from him to thank a  _werewolf_. Jace nodded, letting his expression slightly soften, and reached out his own hand. They shook once and then Jonathan's hand dropped back to his side. It looked as though he was going to say something else when Jace's head jerked back up, his eyes alert, and looked toward the car park. Clary and Jonathan followed his gaze and saw a car coming off the road and toward the car park. It was a little yellow thing, and there was loud music coming, and Jace didn't look as though he was worried, so it wasn't anyone bad, but they still didn't want to be seen by someone who had the chance of recognizing them, and given Clary had lived in Idris for a long time, there was the chance that a lot of people could.

"We should go," Jace murmured and Clary nodded. Jonathan looked upset that their visit was being cut short, but his face showed he understood. A couple of girls got out of the car, laughing and talking loudly, and Clary moved so that she was standing right beside Jace, and his arm went around her instinctively.

"Keep me in the loop, okay?" Jonathan asked Clary and she smiled, feeling her throat getting choked up for the second time in just a few minutes, now that she had to leave her brother. "I just need to know that you're okay."

"I know...And I am," she assured him. Jonathan glanced up at Jace and he took in a deep breath.

"Okay," Jonathan murmured and he leaned forward, giving his little sister another tight hug. When he pulled back, he gave her shoulder a squeeze. "I love you, Clare Bear."

"I love you too," Clary returned and she gave him a watery smile before Jace was tugging on her arm and they were quickly walking away. They were heading straight to the trench, which they had climbed up to get here. Hardly any humans went down there, given how dangerous it was, especially in the evening, but with Jace helping her, Clary had managed fine. They had parked on the other side of the preserve, but they had made sure to take a longer path to get back to their car, just in case anyone was following them. Clary looked over her shoulder once more before they got to a particularly big pile of tree trunks that they were able to duck over the side of the trench behind, and Jonathan was watching them go.

She waved at him before they disappeared behind the pile of fallen trees.

Her chest was tight and her stomach was twisting, this time with sadness rather than nervousness, like when they had been on their way here.

But as Jace jumped down into the trench, easily bracing his legs on a rock that was several metres down, Clary saw a few sprouts of green on one of the fallen trees. She brushed away the debris that surrounded it, taking a moment to look at the few, bright green leaves that were determinedly stretching upwards.

Just like her, new life was growing in this forest, a new beginning from the mess that had occurred. And even though the way that it had happened hadn't been in the best of ways, it didn't mean that the new part of their lives had to suffer from that.

Beginnings weren't always bad.

Beginnings meant hope.

And hope was beautiful.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think :)


End file.
